Graxa looked the pommel over. It was a nice shape, just a little off centre, but it would do. Not bad for a first sword. Now the apprentice would need to put an edge on his creation. At the moment this thing couldn't even cut into butter.

ok lad have a drink, but first we need to such the blade. So dip it in that bath of water there, by the way lad, I wouldn't be drinking from that there water as some nasty stuff in there. So one you quench the blade, your arms I'll take it easier on ya, but ya legs, they be nice for a workout. For now ya going to have to push the grindstone peddle in and out to get the grindstone to rotate. The more effort you apply the quicker that there stone will go, making it easiervto get a keen edge on ya blade. Do not sharpen the blade all the way to the hilt. Ya listening lad? Ya need to keep at lease a third, maybe even half the length dull, not completely sharp, b'cause when fighting a person will need to block some attacks by holding the dull area of the blade. Can't block if ya chop ya fingers off can ya lad? Anyways get that there stone moving then start to sharpen from the middle of the length of the blade and up to the top of the blade. No slacking now lad or I'll make ya rub ya butt on that there stone.

Marcaida gratefully took a sip of water and then taking up his blade with his mitt and tongs, he quench the blade. There was a satisfying sizzling sound.

"Yes Master Sir. I am listening." He said and sat down to peddle. He noticed the grindstone started to move. "Yes. Time to sharpen the weapon!"

Marcaida began his work. He mentally marked the midpoint of the blade and started sharpening the top half of the blade. As his edge touch the grindstone, he noticed that there was spark coming out of it. The faster he peddled, the more the spark. When he finished one side, he started to work on the other side. Then he flipped the sword over and repeated the process. He worked until he was satisfied and he truly wanted to test the edge of the blade, but he did not dare to. There was no way to test it by the blowing a hair test or striking it on something without his teacher knowing.

There was way to test it secretly, by running it lightly across his fingers, but he dare not do such a thing, for it would surely reveal his draconic identity. This was also one the reason why Marcaida valued safety over all other aspect of life.

So the weapon was nearly complete. It didn't look too bad, but the hilt was bare metal, and for a weapon of note, even a simple one such as Marcaida had produced, it was not such a good way.

Graxa must have seen this for once Marcaida had finished he'd be handed a leather strip, about two feet in length, and about 1/2 inch wide, to Marcaida.

"Ok finishing touches are important boy. It can mean the difference between a sale, and a useless weapon that no one will pay well for. So get to put a warp on that there hilt! Or I'll use the leather to tan your hide and use ya skin as my next wrapping. .

If Marcaida want to use some, there were some coloured twines to tie off the bindings available over on one of the benches by the grindstone. There were a light and dark shades of each of the following colours: Red, Blue, Green, and Purple/Pink.

Marcaida looked at the leather strip and his blade. "It does look bare. Be on it Master, Sir."

He headed to the bench and picked a blue twine, one that was closest to his natural scale color. He carefully wrapped the hilt, ensuring that it was tight. When he was satisfied, he took the selected twine to tie up the leather with a dead knot. He looked over his blade, feeling satisfied at his work.

"Please have a look." Marcaida said, offering both blade with both his hands to Graxa.

Graxa accepted the blade with the merit it was due, for even though it was a simple blade, the first made by anyone, was one that had been pulled to shape with the same sweat and strain, as many more would be in the future, but as with all things in life, the first was always the one remembered. He checked the sword over, looked for the balance point of the blade which seemed to be just a bit north of the mid blade length, and then gave a couple of flourishes of the blade through the air to listen to the air reverberate around the blade as it cut through the air. Satisfied he returned the blade to its maker.

"Not had for a first attempt. I might a make a weapons maker of ya yet ya bag of bones. Now if ya wanna try it, for it is an it unless ya name it, then take ya self out back and beat the crap out of tha bail of straw that someone thought to make into a dummy. Assuming ya don't bend, snap, dent, blunt tha bloody thing ya might be able to sell it off, but that he upta yaself. Now git and do what ya needs ta.

"Thank you Sir!" Marcaida said earnestly and took it the weapon back. As instructed, he headed to the back and looked at the straw dummy.

Marcaida closed his eyes as he held the weapon close to his face. He spoke softly in draconic tongue, so soft that unless one were to press his ear next to his lips, no sound escape his lips. "I will name you GRAXA. May you be punish all your enemy hard."

He opened his eyes and took a few tentative light swings at the dummy. If it did not break, bend or snap, he would go into combat stance. His left legs slightly forward, his right slight bended. He focused on his balance for a moment, then pulling the blade back until it was almost point to the ground, he flipped his sword hand so that his wrist will face the skies... He lunged forward, giving the dummy a wide decapitating swing.

If nothing happen, he would make a few more light swing and a stab before heading back into the forge.

The sword had been named. He was to be known by the name of the weaponsmith. If the weaponsmith knew this he would likely go to the forge find the biggest hammer he could and then beat at least three hounds of Jalat out of the body of Marcaida and then jump on the body just for good measure. But it is lucky that he didn't know.

The sword knew what his maker wanted. He hit the head of the dummy but stopped when he hit the staff that was the core of the dummy holding it together. The next hits left the head still clinging by a tump of straw. The sword had been christened and now was ready for sale.

Marcaider returned.

" now ya's done ok for your first weapon lad. Go, but be here early tomorrow far I needs ya to make me an axe, and it ain't as easy as it wouldst seems at first looking . Graxa had dismissed his charge, but Marcaida better be ready for more of the same on the start of the brightening.

Graxa was mumbling under his breath. It didn't matter the weather, the situation, the candlemark, he grumbled. He grumbled about his life in general, but mostly about the fact that it seemed to him that his apprentice had decided to yet again be late, even though it wasn't late, it was just that Graxa had woken early.

He stood there at his forge tapping his foot, and swinging a hammer for good measure. That can't be good!

It was his father that told Marcaida that you should always thank people after they gave you some help. It was his foster father that told Marcaida that he should always buy a treat if someone gave you great help, and that was what he did.

He woke up a full candlemark before hand, dropped by the local bakery and purchased half a loaf of bread. This will stop him from drinking any mead this evening, but he think it was only polite. He arrived at the shop at what he believed to be 5 whole minutes before he was to start work officially and he noticed Graxa standing there. 'Yikes!' That was his thoughts, but he continued moving through the smithery, towards Graxa.

"Good brightening, Master Graxa Sir. I still haven't properly thank you for allowing me to work for you and be trained by you. Like what my father used to say, a teacher is like another parent to you and you should thank them. I couldn't afford much, but I hope you can enjoy this." Marcaida presented the half-loaf of bread to his teacher.

Graxa watched the apprentice arrive, if he could and he had learned elementism, he would have made lightning bolt daggers shot from his eyes, but then he looked to the hadnds of his apprentice who had brought a thank you gift.

That was a first, mainly because he hadn't had many that had lasted more that.n one day, and one hand had actually died, not necessarily by Graxa's hand but him throwing the Hammer at the guy's head, well it was just a mess. Anyways...

Graxa took the proffered gift. "I thanks ya for the gift boy. Don't think this be make it me take it easy on ya, cause it won't. Now get ready for ya have an axe to grind by the end of th brightening, or I be splitting ya skull with one."

That was his way of saying thank you.

Once Marcaida was ready he would find a shorter but thicker piece of metal ready for him on the flat.

"so now we have a new way we need to use this ere anvil. Fist we need to thin out a section of the end that will have the handle pass through it so that we can punch a hole in it. So heat ya bar up and start to thin the one end out, all four sides must be hit in sequence otherwise you will form a weird shape. Once you get to roughly two inches thick and square we can look to start to make the hole. Get to it ya bag of bones

Marcaida nodded and hurriedly put on his mitts and work apron. He was glad he had decided to thank his master by purchasing a gift. The smith wrath was averted, for now.

"Yes Master Graxa, Sir." Marcaida said as he took the metal bar, which ironically looked a dwarf without beard. He would not mention it, of course. He valued his own life.

It was the 'Bellowing' life. This was the song he had decided to create one brightening when he became a professional smith and had his own shoppe. He waited for the bar to be cherry red again and began hammering. He knew how an axe look like and began hitting thinning the bar. Once it started to have obvious sides to it, he would hit the four sides in sequence. He hammered. He bellowed when needed. He hammered more.

In time, he was done. About two inches thick and looked somewhat like a square. He looked at the dwarf, waiting for his comment.

Graxa waited for his apprentice to finish beating the metal into a rectangular square. The bar was now a bit irregular in smoothness along the sides, and Graxa'skeen eye picked up on this straight away.

"what good is that gona be lad? Ya need to be careful of your beatings otherwise I be coming the same with yeh head. Tidy up two opposite sides. These will become the sides that we will form the blade, the other two sides will be where we will be looking to punch a hole for the handle. But do not thin the bar out any more yet. If it is thinning ya need to do what we did with the pommel to get some width back and that's hit the end, ta squash it back a bit. So you have some control in this but look to smooth off the two sides first.

Graxa would wait for Marcaida to finish his work then Graxa would continue.

"now then. The two sides you didn't smooth will be the top and bottom. Remember that there hole in the anvil? You now need to beat the bar up put the top or bottom side over the hole. This here rounded spike is then going to be hit about an inch from the edge of the bar over the hole. Up to you if you hit it more than once, but as you progress through this you will then flip the bar over and hit the opposite side, either top or bottom, again when you see the bar cooling heat up, continue in this manner for howe'er long it takes to punch through. Be careful though 'cause if ya goes off course ya will puncture the good sides, and ya be starting again. So gets to it.

Marcaida nodded and quickly heated the metal again. He remembered how he work with the pommel and started working on the axe again, and this time, he worked cautiously. He thickened the bar and little then hammered again so that one side would be thick enough to put a handle in, the other would be a blade.

He imagined the anvil when Graxa spoke about the hole and he nodded. He began to understand how the handle bar was going to be inserted. Following the instruction to the letter, Maximus placed the bar over the spike and hit it. He carefully hit it again and again, not wanting to puncture the wrong sides. He then flipped over and repeated the process, heating whenever needed. Cautiousness was important here, and that was what he did.

It was not hard work, but the apprentice had to be careful. As he worked he would notice the bar section he was working on would begin to bulge every time he would hit it against the spike. Pushing the spike further into the metal until after four cycles of rotation the sims would puncture through making the smallest of holes in the metal bar.

Now Graxa didn't interfere, which was strange, for usually he would be like a dog that was chasing a bone that its owner had just throw for him to catch. No this time he wanted his apprentice to think this through. The wooden handle was going to be about 2 inches in diameter where the axe head was going to sit. There were a couple of other 'spikes' available by the forge in the rack of tools, going up in widths, the largest being about one and half inches in diameter. This initial spike was only going to punch a hole half inch in diameter. There was always the other tools available on the anvil itself.

Graxa wondered if his apprentice would have the brain power to figure it out. Only the candlemarks would tell.